Archive for July, 2011

There is much to discuss in the final two chapters of Wolfhart Pannenberg’s Systematic Theology, Volume 1. Both chapters involve Pannenberg’s account of the Trinitarian identity of the Christian God including the various attributes of God. In view of the large amount of material needing to be discussed here, I decided to discuss one section I found most interesting; Pannenberg’s position regarding the place of the doctrine of the Trinity within the dogmatic structure.

After a nicely organized historical account of the dogmatic ordering concerning the doctrine of the Trinity, Pannenberg argues that the ordering is determined by a particular view of the unity and distinction within Godself. As discussed earlier in the chapter, Pannenberg shows that the early Christian Church struggled to develop the unification between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit without losing their distinction. The doctrine of the Trinity became less emphasized in 17th and 18th century Protestant theology because theologians of this time period struggled to account for the coherence between the unity and differentiation of God’s being as testified in the biblical witness. Even Protestant dogmaticians who were sympathetic with the idea of the prominent role of the Trinity still believed “that the OT justifies a prior presentation of God as the Supreme Being (Exod. 3:14) and also of his attributes” (281). Beginning from the Hebrew Bible’s conception of this One Ultimate God encouraged theologians to view the Trinity as a later addition rather than the essential starting point for Christian dogmatics. It becomes clear (and Pannenberg even admits this) that the construction of the doctrine of God is difficult for any dogmatician given the tension between God’s Triune identity as unified yet distinct. The most interesting observation Pannenberg makes is when he states that the decision whether to treat the unity or distinction of God first will ultimately be determined by one’s view of metaphysical knowledge. If the theologian believes that God’s unity can be postulated through the sheer extension of human reason, then unity is necessarily treated first and the distinction between the Father, Son, and Spirit are discussed later since on this view such beliefs arise only through revelation. Moreover, the statements concerning God’s triunity can only be seen as important if the discussion of God’s unity is not deemed as satisfactory in order to offer a full account of His identity. Unless the concept of God’s triunity is seen as indispensable, “the Trinitarian statements must seem to be a more or less superfluous and external addition to the doctrine of the one God” (283).

Pannenberg finally divulges his own commitments when he proposes that even the statements about God’s unity are made possible only through revelation: “It is true that Christian talk of Father, Son, and Spirit, and especially Jesus’ addressing of God as Father, must always presuppose a prior understanding of God. This is not, however, the understanding of philosophical theology but that of religion and in particular it is the understanding of the God who revealed himself to Israel as the one God” (299, emphasis added). All of this is to say that Pannenberg concludes by agreeing with Karl Barth’s ordering of dogmatics and Barth’s recovery of the essential role of the doctrine of the Trinity. But unlike Barth, Pannenberg prefers to construct the doctrine of the Trinity not from some “formal concept of revelation as self-revelation” but rather through “historical revelation of God as Father, Son, and Spirit” (296). In Barth’s Trinitarian account of revelation, there is “a subject of revelation, an object, and revelation itself, all of which are one and the same” (296, emphasis added). Therefore, since Barth sees the subject of revelation as singular, plurality plays no role in terms of the “persons in the one God but only for different modes of being in the one divine subjectivity” (296). In short, Pannenberg praises Barth’s understanding that God’s unity can not be discussed apart from God’s Triunity, but ultimately Barth “subordinated his doctrine of the Trinity to a pretrinitarian concept of the unity of God and his subjectivity in revelation” thus not allowing Barth to “see what is the function of the doctrine of the essence and attributes of God for the doctrine of the Trinity, namely, that it is only with the question of the essence and attributes of the Trinitarian God that the unity of this God becomes a theme, and we are thus enabled to avoid the confusions which inevitably arise when we try to derive the trinity from the person of the Father or the unity of the divine substance” (299 – phew!). I would be very interested if anyone had any insights concerning Pannenberg’s criticisms of Barth’s Trinitarian theology along with his own preference for a “historical” account of Trinitarian theology.

Pannenberg’s third and fourth chapters of his Systematic Theology (Vol. 1) expand his methodological considerations as he develops his understanding of the truth of God in the experience of religions, before moving on to describe the concept of revelation in the history of theology. I want to offer some points of observation, and continue to some degree Jeremy’s third point.

Pannenberg ostensibly seeks to offer a theology that is at once didactic, coherent and, most characteristically, apologetic; it should be concerned with the truth of Christian doctrine (this is in distinction from someone like Brunner, for example, who holds that systematic theology is not, as such, apologetic in nature). The apologetic aspect is something that I think is not sufficiently emphasized. Not because it is apologetic as such, but the way in which Pannenberg is apologetic. Pannenberg’s apologetic stance is hardly conventional, as he undercuts nearly all apologetic argument as they are traditionally employed.

In the chapters that Jeremy wrote on in the previous post, Pannenberg writes that the traditional arguments for the existence of God do not establish the existence of God with certitude (or even necessarily alter the debate), but that they remain important only as philosophical criteria which make talk of God broadly intelligible (95). Pannenberg also writes that Kant effectively confuted all speculative arguments for the existence of God (90). Is this apologetic?

For Pannenberg, the truth of theology is provisional and unproven. While he has a fairly high opinion of the historicity of the resurrection (more precisely, the ability of one to establish the likelihood of it’s historical occurrence, see his Jesus – God and Man), I don’t understand Clayton’s criticism that Pannenberg suffers from a lack of “epistemic humility.” The veridicality of theology is for Pannenberg, again, provisional and something that will only be determined in the eschaton. Theological truth-claims are not something that can be established in toto, and are as such contestable – in fact, theologians must expect their claims to be criticized. Hence, Pannenberg’s goal of re-establishing theology’s credibility in the university and the wider intellectual debate is central to his project (see his Theology and the Philosphy of Science).

In a related fashion, Pannenberg also dismisses of the virgin-birth as a legendary appendage to the gospel narratives, probably coming from a tradition that post-dated Paul (this, to be sure, is not necessarily unusual). As well, he undercuts the usefulness of the idea of the mythic Adamic fall. Pannenberg’s methodological chapter on the nature of religion, where he overviews the nature of religion in the context of the debate regarding religions reduction to its most universal constituent factors, is again subservient to the section on the question of truth in the concept of religion.

Certainly, Pannenberg’s theology is oriented toward an apologetic stance, but it is not an apologetic stance that can be understood as an uncritical salvaging of the Christian tradition from the exigencies of external criticism. The great strength of Pannenberg’s strong methodological dialogue with the natural sciences (which is more clearly evident in the second volume of this systematic theology than this one), is that Pannenberg allows these other disciplines (e.g. anthropology, cosmology, etc.) to correct his theology quite freely. If a doctrine can no longer be held because it has been rendered meaningless through the insights of another discipline, then Pannenberg happily jettisons it. If I could, I would describe Pannenberg’s Systematic Theology as ‘a dogmatics without dogma.’

“The liberal is one who sees “both sides” of the issue and shies away from “extremism” in any form. He wants to change the heart of the racist without ceasing to be his friend; he wants progress without conflict…Black people know who the enemy is, and they are forcing the liberal to take sides. But the liberal wants to be a friend, that is, enjoy the rights and and privileges pertaining to whiteness and also work for the “Negro”. He wants change without risk, victory without blood…His favorite question when backed against the wall is “What can I do?” One is tempted to reply, as Malcolm X did to the white girl who asked the same question, “Nothing.” What the liberal really means is, “What can I do and still receive the same privileges as other whites and – this is the key – be liked by the Negroes?” Indeed the only answer is “Nothing.” However, there are places in the Black Power picture for “radicals,” that is, for men, white or black, who are prepared to risk their life for freedom. There are places for the John Browns, men who hate evil and refuse to tolerate it anywhere” (James Cone, Black Theology and Black Power, P 27-28)

1) The Source of Theology – Pannenberg offers a history about the source of theology for both Protestant and Catholic dogmatics. Early Protestant dogmatics grounded its theology firmly in the Word of God. Of course, the Enlightenment criticism of the unity of Bible “destroyed the biblical statements by drawing attention to contradictions and antitheses in biblical statements” (26). Pannenberg notes that the accommodation theory (the notion that differences in the Bible can be explained by the idea the Spirit adapts to the language and culture of the Bible’s various authors) replaced the doctrine of inspiration. The doctrine of accommodation exposes the true problem of the doctrine of inspiration, which is that it “handled the divine truth of scripture as the presupposition rather than the goal of theology” (35).

2) Barth and Schleiermacher – For Schleiermacher, theology must be grounded in the subjective experience of the believer. He also presupposes that truth was “always decided already in advance” (42). Unlike the inspirationists, scriptural unity is replaced by the “subjective faith consciousness” (42). Of course, this severs theology from the argumentation for the truths of Christian doctrine because what ultimately matters it the subjectivity of the individual Christian. Although Barth was tirelessly critical of Schleiermacher’s project, Pannenberg believes that Barth again committed the sin of “basing dogmatics on faith as risk if not on faith as experience” (44). Barth intended to base theology on the priority of God’s self revelation, but Pannenberg argues if we want to move beyond this fideism ought we not to “abandon the assumption that the reality of God is a presupposition of dogmatics from the very outset?” (45). Pannenberg goes so far to say that Barth “demonstrates the tragic embarrassment of theology at this point. So long as one thinks that the truth of Christian doctrine must be established in advance of all discussion of its content, and given the demise of both the infallible authority of the church’s teaching office and the older Protestant doctrine of inspiration, there is little choice but to appeal to an act of faith, where as experience or as risk or venture” (47). For me, this is Pannenberg at his best. The later Bonhoeffer comes to mind who likewise criticized for Barth’s ‘positivism of revelation’. Bonhoeffer argues that there are degrees of importance and decisions to be made theologically. We have to discriminate and argue without demanding that all of it must swallowed completely.

3) Truth – Pannenberg outlines his methodology as one that will attempt to argue for the truth of Christian doctrine. The real task is not to assume the truth of Christian doctrine, but rather to “face the contesting of the reality and revelation of God in the world” (50). Pannenberg recognizes that it is simply impossible to do theology without presuppositions. Similarly, he understands that the subjectivity of the theologian also comes into play although it does not determine truth. However, the truth will ultimately be determined by God. He considers that doctrines should be conceived of as “hypotheses” (56). Since God is the source of truth, systematic theology “must be a systematic doctrine of God and nothing else” (59). All different doctrines emerge from and “have their truth in God” (59). Finally, a systematic theology must be critical of previous dogmatics, which area incomplete and open to revision.

The fourth and fifth sections of Eberhard Jüngel’s God as the Mystery of the World are nothing short of extraordinary. How does one possibly attempt to summarize almost two hundred pages of brilliantly and meticulously charted argumentation that outlines the positive mystery of the Triune God? Well, here is my best shot.

In a sense, Jüngel encapsulates his project with this simple sentence: “If God is one who justifies mankind, then that is already a statement about who or what God is” (231). All speech about God is made possible by and directly flows from the doctrine of justification. With this affirmation, Jüngel stands in opposition to much of Christian tradition, which confesses that God is ultimately ineffable and incomprehensible. While Jüngel highlights the various distinctions between theologians such as Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite, Aquinas, and John of Damascus, all of these Church fathers maintained a form of apophatic theology. One gets the impression that despite Jüngel’s charity and even-handedness when discussing and critiquing apophaticism, he seems rather baffled that the tradition could miss the central truth that belief in justification is already a positive statement about God’s identity. God justifies humanity through the crucified Christ. Still, the belief that God’s identity can truly be known is not presumptuous. In order for humanity to speak about the God revealed in Christ, God must already have revealed Himself in history. Speech about this God who is historically revealed in the crucified Christ then requires thought about God. But how is this thought possible? Here Jüngel offers a Barthian theological orientation. The possibility for humanity to think about God comes exclusively through the continual event of God’s self-revelation. Despite these confident affirmations, Jüngel states the goal of theology is to “prevent the misuse” of the word God. The ever-present problem of theology is how true speech about God can occur while still maintaining true speech about God. Thus, the pertinent question necessarily becomes this: how can one speak about God?

The path to answer this question is quite laborious yet rewarding. Jüngel, despite his Heideggerian prose, feels like an analytic philosopher at times through his scrupulous and dense writing. As already mentioned, Jüngel disagrees with the apophatic impulse that God is ultimately ineffable and incomprehensible. But in agreement with these negative thinkers, God is still a mystery. The question becomes how exactly this mystery is defined. Jüngel maintains that God is a positive mystery because this mysterious God “wants to be grasped” (250). But even in God’s desire to be grasped by creatures, God “can not be resolved, uncovered or exposed” since God always reveals Himself precisely as mystery (251). Jüngel retains the mystery of God, but does not travel down the same path as the Enlightenment in allowing this mystery to lead to the concession that God can’t be known. Moving forward a bit, the only way that God as a positive mystery can be communicated is through analogy. God cannot be expressed through equivocal speech (ambiguous) since He can be differentiated from creatures yet God also cannot be expressed through univocal speech (unambiguous) since He is differentiated from creatures. This leads one forward to the use of analogy. One thing is certain for Jüngel: analogy is essential for any possible “responsible” speech about God because this is the only means by which correspondence occurs between human speech and the reality of God. So where is this analogy properly located? In the Gospel. The Gospel is the human word, which corresponds to the positive divine mystery through the context of an analogia fidei. The correspondence is located in the person and work of Jesus Christ: “…the mystery of the God who identifies with the man Jesus is the increase of similarity and nearness between God and man which is more than mere identity and which reveals the concrete difference between God and man in its surpassing mere identical being” (288). In Jesus Christ, the mysterious God radically displays His desire to be known by His creatures as the One who justifies humanity.

The last part of the book offers a christocentric grounding for a Trinitarian exposition of revelation. God reveals His identity through the crucified Christ as the One who lavishly loves humanity. The being of God is love. Because of this reality, the very task of theology is “to think God as love” (315). Only in safeguarding the reality of God’s being as love will theology “do justice to the being of God which remains so distinctive from the event of human love that ‘God’ does not become a superfluous word” (315). This love is not a tautology but an event, which unfolds not only in Godself but also between God and humanity. The statement God is love (1 John 4:8) finds it’s meaning in the person and work of Jesus Christ as true man and true Son of God. To be clear, God is still mysterious since He remains invisible outside of Jesus Christ. God’s invisibility maintains His identity as mystery. But the mystery of God’s invisibility never negates the truth embraced by faith that God has intimately revealed His identity in the justification of humanity through the cross of Jesus Christ.

Since I have already taken up quite a bit of space, I would like to highlight one aspect of Jüngel’s book, which left quite the impression. In his treatment of analogy, Jüngel makes the provocative claim that the debate between the analogia entis (AE)and the analogia fidei (AF) is not about the Creator/creature distinction. This is often how the debate is framed and it is an irresponsible misrepresentation of both positions. Both AE and AF maintain the Creator/creature distinction. The question becomes how God’s revelation is known or how speech about God is possible once the notion of distinction is already on the table. Does humanity come to know God and build the bridge (so to speak) in the midst of the distinction from the side of humanity (through an analogy of being) or is correspondence made possible only through the continual and exclusive self-initiation of God? I don’t know how this understanding of the common ground between AE and AF existing in the Creator/creature distinction is received. In my experience, most speak about the AE as collapsing the distinction when the analogy of being is upheld while AF always maintains strict separation. In Jüngel’s formulation, AF offers a radical “identity” between God and humanity in the man Jesus. I would be interested to hear thoughts or insights regarding the framing of the debate between the AE and the AF in this way.